The Cloud Roads

Chapter Twelve

Moon and Jade left before dawn broke and flew through the day like arrows.

They flew over the jungle, then hills, then the edge of the grass plains, heading toward the mountains. They pushed themselves hard, stopping only briefly to rest, and at the end of each day they were too exhausted to talk about anything except whose turn it was to hunt. Moon thought that was probably a large factor in how well they were getting along.

They were one day into the mountains when Moon started to have some concern about their route. They settled for the night on a ledge on a gentle slope, sheltered by trees made of hundreds of vines, winding around themselves to form tall straggly bundles.

Moon and Stone had come through these ranges at a different point, and the cold, the strong winds and the lack of game had made it a rough crossing. Now the view of the terrain that lay before them was nothing but endless, barren slopes, snow-capped peaks, and sharp cliffs. This way was more direct, but Moon thought that maybe they should have taken an extra day and entered the mountains further south, that maybe Stone had chosen that route for a reason. But it was too late now.

He was about to tell Jade his concerns when she lifted her head, tasting the air. “Fell.” She snarled. “How are they following us? This is ridiculous.”

Moon stood and took a deep breath, holding it to examine the scents. She was right, not that he had doubted; mixed in with rock, damp, the rank odor of the predators that prowled the nearby canyon, was the distinctive taint of Fell. He suppressed a growl, since Jade was doing enough of that for both of them. “They must have seen or scented us when we left the valley.”

Except that didn’t seem possible. The Fell shouldn’t be able to track them by scent; they were flying downwind. And no one could have betrayed them. The others hadn’t seen them leave, and Flower and Pearl didn’t even know which way the Cordans’ settlement lay.

Jade tapped her claws on the rock. “Or...” She grimaced. “The Fell seemed to have a queen’s power over the court. They couldn’t shift to fight or run. This is like a mentor’s power, the power to point the Fell in the right direction to find us, to see us in visions.”

That idea made Moon’s skin crawl. But he didn’t want to give up. For one thing, he still hadn’t thought of any better way to attack the Fell in the colony than the poison. And it wasn’t just the Indigo Cloud court that needed saving. He thought about all the groundlings he had met over the turns, all the cities and settlements. The Fell had already caused enough death and destruction. If they were actually getting worse, somehow becoming more powerful, he couldn’t imagine what that would be like. “We’re close. Once we get past the mountains, we’re there.”

“Yes, I think we should go on.” Jade rolled her shoulders and settled her frills. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe the Fell just saw us leave, and have been lucky enough to track us. If that’s so, we should be able to lose them in the mountain currents.”

Moon hoped she was right.

They were only halfway through the mountains when the sky turned against them. They had to fight the wind, and the clouds closed in to weep cold rain and ice. Moon thought this was probably the reason Stone had taken the more southern route. Their only hope was that the Fell following them was something less than a major kethel. If that were the case, then it would be just as affected as they were.

After two more days fighting the cold and the wet, they were both exhausted. Then in the late afternoon, Moon caught the hint of wood smoke, and a more acrid scent of hot metal, as if there was a large working forge somewhere upwind. On impulse he followed it. The slopes below them were all barren rock, and wood smoke meant trees and a sheltered valley that might give them some relief for the night.

It was nearly evening when the smoke led them over a pass, and Moon was startled to see the source. Between two peaks, ringed by crags and cliffs, was a groundling city.

It was like a small mountain itself, but made of metal as well as stone, built on a giant circular plateau that seemed suspended in the pass. The buildings were made of heaps of raw stone, forming odd-sized towers, supported by discolored metal beams. In the failing daylight, lamps glittered from windows, and smoke and white steam drifted up from hundreds of chimneys. Moon could make out the shapes of groundlings moving in the narrow streets, but he thought his eyes betrayed him because the city, the whole giant plateau, seemed to be slowly turning.

Moon cut in toward the nearest crag and landed on a ledge where he could get a good view. From this angle, he could see that the plateau beneath the city was probably two or three hundred paces tall, and the edge was studded by thick, heavy pillars, like the spokes of a wheel. Water rushed out from under it, a great torrent falling down to a narrow lake below. The platform wasn’t a natural plateau but a giant wheel lying on its side, turned by the force of the water. That’s new, Moon thought, impressed with the groundlings’ ingenuity.

Jade landed next to him, breathing hard from the icy wind.

“What is this place?” She leaned forward, squinting. “And why is it moving?”

Moon shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of it.”

The city lay right in the path of a pass, and a wide road led up to it, carved out of the rocky side of the cliff. The bulk of the city kept Moon from seeing exactly how the road reached the platform, but there must be some sort of bridge or stair. Several parties of groundlings made their way up the road, probably trying to reach the city before nightfall. A dark shape moving along resolved itself into a blocky, square wagon drawn by furry draughtbeasts, not unlike the ones the Sericans had used to travel the grass plains. Then Moon caught a flash of dark blue from the wagon box and thought they must be Sericans, or a race very similar.

Despite its odd situation, every indication suggested this was a trading city, where travelers felt safe taking shelter. Moon let his breath out in frustration, his bones aching from the damp cold. If they could go down there, buy food and a place to sleep for the night, they might be able to fly far enough to make it out of the mountains and into the warmer valleys by evening tomorrow. But Jade could only shift to Arbora, not groundling like Moon and the others. He stared at her, realizing, “You don’t look like a Fell.”

She eyed him. “Thank you.”

“I mean, it’s me that’s the problem.” Moon’s black scales made him resemble a Fell too closely for groundling comfort. Jade’s scales were blue and gray, and in her Arbora form, without her wings and most of her spines, she would just look like a groundling from another race. Granted, most groundlings didn’t have scales and tails, but at least no one could point and say, “Fell.” All she had to do was not shift where anyone could see her. He took her hand, looking at her rings. “Would you trade one of these for food and a warm place to sleep tonight?”

Her brow furrowed in surprise. “I’d love to. Is that possible?”

Moon looked down at the city again. “Probably.”

They waited until night filled the valley before they flew down to land among the rocky outcrops below the road. Moon shifted to groundling and Jade to Arbora, and they walked up the steep path, the lights of the city guiding them in.

The ice-laden wind was biting and the frozen mud and loose rock crunched underfoot. Moon carried their pack, and Jade wore a blanket as a wrap, tied at her shoulder. Some groundlings had nudity taboos, some didn’t, but wearing nothing in this weather would attract unwanted attention. He had also had her take off all her jewelry, her rings, bracelets, and belt, and bury it in the bottom of the pack, except for the amethyst ring they meant to trade. There was no point in attracting trouble.

As the road curved around, they passed metal stands supporting torches that hissed and steamed from the ice in the air, the warm light illuminating the road ahead. Drawing closer to the edge of the platform, Moon heard the massive creak of gears, audible even over the rush of the waterfall below. The pillars supporting the city platform were huge, but mostly lost in shadow. Moon and Jade were too far below it to see much of the city itself, except for the looming columns of rock towers. Once they climbed high enough, Moon could see that the road continued on through the pass, disappearing into the dark. But at the top of the slope, a wide metal bridge, supported with stone columns, crossed a narrow gorge to the platform.

It didn’t go all the way across; it stopped just before the edge of the platform, which was protected by a stone and metal wall. Apparently you had to wait until the platform rotated around to an opening in the wall before you could cross over to the city. A group of groundings waited on the bridge. A man at the end acted as gatekeeper.

The groundlings were all bundled up in furred hides or heavy knitted cloth, waiting with varying degrees of impatience or resignation for the next gate to come around. They were tall people, heavily built, with frizzy gray-brown hair not much distinguishable from their fur hoods and cloaks. They also had heavy tusks or horns curving down below their chins.

The bridge was wide and spacious, so Moon walked out onto it. Jade followed him. It was sheltered from the wind, though not from the icy drizzle. The torch-stands lit the rocky gorge below, the silver-gray curtain of water tumbling down. The other travelers huddled in on themselves against the cold and didn’t take much notice of the new arrivals.

Moon walked up to stand beside the gatekeeper to get a better look. The platform moved with grating slowness, but he saw an opening in the outer wall rotating toward them. There must be many openings, otherwise the city’s platform wouldn’t be accessible for half the night. The gatekeeper, bundled against the cold, waited patiently. Moon had to ask, “The water makes it turn?”

Jade leaned into listen as the man, with the air of replying by rote, said, “There’s a special sort of rock in this pass. The water turns the wheels, grinding the rock, and the movement makes the rock give off heat, and the heat is used to make steam.” Like most of the others, he had smooth brown skin, deep-set eyes, a heavy forehead ridge, and bushy brows. His tusks were very white, yellowed only on the ends. He turned toward them and did a slightly startled double-take at their appearance. But they must not have seemed too out of the ordinary, because he added, again by rote, “To find the caravanserai, follow the outer ring around to the wagon path, then head in toward the center of the city. It’s the widest path. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” Jade told him. She added, in Raksuran to Moon, “What’s a caravanserai?”

“A place we can pay to stay the night,” Moon told her absently. This close to the city, he was beginning to feel jumpy. He had been around Raksura long enough to fall into their habits: shifting whenever he felt like it, hissing when he was startled or angry. He hoped it hadn’t hurt his ability to pretend to be a groundling.

They waited, and finally the opening in the outer ring grated into place, matching platforms with the bridge. The keeper opened the gate, saying, “Hurry now, step carefully!” and everyone moved across.

Moon and Jade followed the others. The outer ring was just inside the platform wall, a wide corridor along the edge of the city paved with stone and metal squares. Narrow streets led off into the interior, all lined with the tall rock buildings supported by metal girders, discolored with rust. More torch-stands lit the streets. The buildings had little round windows sealed with thin hide or what might be paper. Firelight shined through, giving the houses a lively look even though most of the inhabitants must be huddled inside against the cold. Moon caught enticing scents of cooked meat and boiled roots as they walked past.

The other travelers all took the narrower streets, but none seemed to be the wagon path the gatekeeper had described. Finally Moon spotted it, a wide opening more than large enough for the big Serican wagon he had seen earlier.

As they turned down the street, Moon saw a number of people ahead gathered around a doorway, a cave-like opening into a dim, smoky chamber. As they reached it, Moon paused, catching a glimpse inside. A groundling was sprawled on the floor, another was drinking from a ceramic bottle, and more forms were lost in the dimness. “In there?” Jade asked, eyeing the place doubtfully. “It stinks.”

It did stink, of some kind of drugged smoke, and it looked like it was a place for locals. “No, not there.”

As they moved on, the street got busier, with more lighted doorways, more groundlings moving from one place to the other, talking and laughing. Moon and Jade weren’t the only strangers. Almost everyone was bundled up against the cold, but Moon caught sight of groundlings with bright green skin, and a whole group whose heavy fur coverings appeared to be at least partially attached to their bodies.

A few people glanced at them as they passed, but the looks seemed more curious than hostile. Music came from the windows above them, drums and something that made a high-pitched wailing noise. As they passed some of the doorways Moon felt rushes of warm, steamy air, heady promises of comfort, if the gatekeeper was right about the caravanserai.

Then at the next bend, a big, tusked groundling lurched out in front of them. Thinking it was an accident, Moon moved to step around him. But the man shoved forward, barring his way.

Moon didn’t flinch, just met the man’s belligerent gaze and snarled under his breath. The man’s tusks had a complicated design carved into them, the shallow grooves filled in with black ink, and his fur coat gave off a smoky, sweet stink. More groundlings gathered around the nearest doorway, watching with suppressed laughter.

The man faltered when Moon didn’t give way, then glared and rocked forward, lifting a hand.

Jade stepped forward and caught his arm, effortlessly shoving him back. Her fangs were slightly bared, just the tips showing over lips curled with contempt. The groundling stumbled, staring blankly, bewildered by her strength. Moon snorted, partly in bitter amusement; the groundling would have been even more startled if she had ripped his guts out. Before anything else could happen, Moon caught Jade’s wrist, shouldered past the groundling, and tugged her after him.

No one followed. Tracking the movement behind them, Moon heard laughter and some imprecations, but most of it seemed to be directed at the groundling man for being stupid enough to test strange travelers.

Jade bristled and walked like she wanted a fight. After a moment, she rolled her shoulders, making her spines and frills relax. Reluctantly, she asked, “Was that the wrong thing to do?”

Moon shrugged a little. “Maybe, maybe not.” It was always hard to tell if it was better to meet a challenge like that and fight, or give way. “We won’t be staying long enough to find out.”

The street widened out into a round plaza, with more passages leading off between the tall rock towers. The Serican wagon stood parked to one side, a few Sericans in heavy embroidered coats wearily unloading it, their indigo skin and dark hair catching reflections from the firelight. The furry draughtbeasts had been released from their harnesses and lay beside the wagon in a comfortable huddle. One of them lifted its massive head, and the beady eyes half-buried in fur glared warily at Moon and Jade.

The Sericans carried bags and bales through a low doorway into the biggest building, a rambling structure with odd corners and overhangs, at least four levels tall. It had several open doors, and many windows flickering with light.

Tattered flags hung outside the main door, the same system Moon had seen used in Viridian Coast trading cities. The red one meant provisions were sold here, the blue that there was space for travelers to sleep, and the others all had various meanings for the storage of wagons, draft animals, and whether trade was done there. Moon fell in behind one of the Sericans, following him under the heavy doorway and down a corridor that was angled to keep out the wind. The air was heavy with the scent of cooked meat, the sounds of talking and laughter. Then they walked into a wave of steamy warmth. Behind Moon, Jade hissed in relief.

The corridor widened into a foyer, one passage angling off to a room where Moon heard someone moving barrels around, and the other heading further in. Moon followed it as it wound deeper into the building, past little rooms or cubbies, each furnished with hide rugs and cushions. A variety of people sat in them, talking, or eating and drinking from copper dishes. Many were the locals with the bushy hair and tusks, but Moon saw more Sericans, some short groundlings with small brown horns peeking out from under their hooded jackets, and the people with the bright green skin.

Moon made his way along, hoping to find a proprietor somewhere, the ice melting in his hair and dripping coldly down the back of his shirt. The heavy scent of meat, even cooked, had caused a clawing sensation in his stomach. He could also smell boiled roots, and something sweet and salty-spicy. People glanced up as they passed but, again, with idle curiosity, not hostility.

By luck they stumbled onto a larger room, mostly occupied by a big stove of gold-colored ceramic, the source of the steam heat. Pipes led up from it into the ceiling and down through the stone floor, and it clanked and hissed and emitted heat like a bonfire. A waist-high section extended out, apparently for cooking.

A local woman stood at it, stirring something in a big pot that breathed sweet-scented steam. She had white beads braided into her long, curly hair and red curlicues incised on her tusks. Two children bundled up in knitted wool played on the floor, then stopped to stare up at the newcomers with big eyes. The woman looked up, and smiled. “Travelers? You want to buy food?”

“Yes, with this.” Moon showed her Jade’s ring.

She leaned in to look, lifting a finger to touch it carefully. Her fingernails were of rough horn, almost claw-like. She nodded approvingly. “White metal and a nice stone. That’ll buy a lot of food.”

Some of the tension uncoiled in Moon’s spine. He would have hated to walk out of here empty-handed; remembering what it was like to be warm made the freezing wet night seem all the worse. “And a place to sleep.”

The woman frowned and looked thoughtfully around the room, but apparently only because she was trying to sort out where to put them. “There’s an empty crib at the top, but the wind-shield is broken and no one else wants it.” She peered down at their bare feet. “You two might not mind it.”

Moon and the woman negotiated, while Jade flicked her tail for the entertainment of the two children. They settled on a hot meal now and in the morning, space for the night, plus a sack of dried meat strips and other provisions to take with them when they left. The woman also threw in a flask of whatever was in the pot, which turned out to be a meat broth with dried berries in it. Jade looked mildly horrified, but Moon was happy with it. Altogether, the amount of food wasn’t the equivalent of a whole herdbeast buck, but it would be enough to keep both of them flying all day tomorrow.

Following her instructions and carrying the blankets that came with the room, a lamp, and the basket of food, they followed a passage to stairs so narrow that Moon didn’t know how wider groundlings could fit through. On each level, oddly shaped doorways led off to low-ceilinged passages divided up into cubbies, most of them blocked off by leather curtains. The Serican women seemed to have most of the second floor, and were busy hanging up icy coats and cloaks to drip in the passage. One did a double take as Jade went past, but then smiled and shook her head. Moon realized she must have caught a glimpse of Jade’s blue scales and thought she was a stray Serican.

The room at the very top was theirs, the only one on that level. They both had to duck to get through the doorway. Light from the passage showed that the space was a little bigger than the cubbies below. It had a round window and, as the woman had said, the thin hide frame stretched over it was torn, letting in a cold draft. The only furniture was a hide to warm the stone floor and a thick sleeping mat stuffed with grasses. But a couple of the stove pipes came through the floor here, winding up and away into the wall, emitting heat and little traces of steam. Having direct access to the outside in case they needed to escape wasn’t a bad thing, either.

“This,” Jade said, with conviction, “was a wonderful idea.” She tossed the blankets onto the sleeping mat and shed her wrap, shaking the melting ice out of her frills. “I would’ve given her that ring to sleep in a corner downstairs.”

“That would have been bad bargaining,” Moon informed her, setting the basket down.

While Jade hung her wrap over the window to block the worst of the drafts, Moon used flint and tinder to get the lamp lit. Instead of oil or a candle, it had a solid block of squishy material that the woman had said would burn most of the night, though not very brightly.

Once it was lit, the warm glow made the room cozy. Moon unpacked the basket of food, taking out the pleasantly warm clay pot first. Lifting the lid showed it was filled with meat in a thick, spice-scented sauce. Jade sat down across from him and took a piece from the pot, sniffing at it doubtfully. “Are you sure this doesn’t spoil the meat?”

“It keeps it from spoiling.” Moon ate a piece, licking the sauce off his fingers. There were also rounds of brown bread, another pot filled with bulbous purple roots and boiled greens, and sweet pastries with nuts and dried berries. They ate in companionable silence while the room grew warmer.

So far, they hadn’t made anything but vague plans for what they would do when they arrived at the Cordans’ valley. On their long flights, Moon had thought of a number of bad ideas, the worst of which was that they might try to steal someone, hopefully one of the elders, and convince him to reveal the location of the poison. Every idea seemed awkward at best, dangerous, and destined for failure. But until now he hadn’t thought of the simplest solution, that Jade could pass as a groundling. She might be able to walk into the camp and ask for the poison, or at least for the knowledge to make it.

Jade bit into one of the purple roots and blinked at the taste, but still swallowed it. “You lived in places like this?”

Her tone made him look up, frowning.

“It’s not that bad.”

A lot of different groundlings must pass through here, and no one had taken much notice of them. It wouldn’t make a good place to live; the terrain around the city was too barren to easily conceal shifting. And it was just too cold. She was still staring at him. He said, “Why?”

She shook her head. “Just trying to understand.”

“Understand what?” Just to be an ass, he offered her the flask of fruit and meat soup.

She gave him a look, ignoring the flask. “Understand you.”

Moon couldn’t think why she would want to. He hadn’t been making an effort to understand her, and had done everything he could to keep her at arm’s length.

He broke the last round of bread apart, and tried not to ask; he didn’t really want to know. But he found himself saying reluctantly, “And do you?”

She watched him long enough for him to have to fight the impulse to shift. Finally she said, “You’re angry that we didn’t find you sooner.”

She was right about that, but it wasn’t a revelation. It had been wearing on him since he had first arrived at Indigo Cloud. It made no sense, it wasn’t logical or fair, by any stretch of the imagination, but he couldn’t help feeling it. He shrugged, and bit into a chunk of bread.

Jade took her time as she finished a last strip of meat, then licked her fingers. Right at the moment when Moon thought he might be safe, she added, “And you’re afraid, now that you’ve seen what your life with a court might have been like, that you’ll have a harder time feeling contented in any place you settle.”

That one was wide of the mark. Moon had seen close-knit communities before, had lived in beautiful places while knowing he didn’t belong and couldn’t risk remaining. He thought of the Hassi and their city above the link-trees. Not bothering to keep the sarcastic edge out of his voice, he said, “If I’d been able to choose what I was born as, I’d have picked something different.” As long as it was something that could still fly.

She tilted her head thoughtfully. With real curiosity, she said, “If Pearl had accepted you from the first, would it have been different? Would you have wanted to stay?”

Moon looked away, his jaw tightening. There had been a moment when, if Pearl had asked nicely, she could have had him on the floor of the gathering hall in front of the entire court, and he knew it. He was afraid everyone else had known it, too. He didn’t know whether to be angry at the rejection or relieved at the close call.

“You were expecting a consort from Star Aster,” he said, “a sheltered, spoiled consort with a perfect bloodline. Are you asking me to believe that it wasn’t a shock when Stone showed up with me?”

“I’ve known Stone all my life. I’m not surprised at anything he shows up with. You can’t have come from a bad bloodline; you’re strong, healthy, and your conformation is perfect.” Jade lifted her brows. “And you’re high-strung, shy, and have the same delicate sensibilities of every gently bred and sheltered consort I’ve ever met.”

Moon knocked back the last of the fruit soup, and set the flask aside. “We need to sleep.” He didn’t know why he was angry with her, why he felt exposed to the bone. I am not high-strung.

Jade didn’t pursue the argument or comment on his retreat, which just made Moon more irritated with her. When she started to push the blankets into a nest on the sleeping mat, Moon took one and retreated to the far edge. But he wasn’t angry enough at her to sleep on the cold floor.